


In the Mood

by ladykardasi



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Challenge Response, Ficlet, Humor, M/M, Mirror Universe, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 18:59:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10905465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladykardasi/pseuds/ladykardasi
Summary: Worf is in the mood. Garak is the victim.





	In the Mood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaDemonessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDemonessa/gifts).



> DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to Paramount. They can even have Garak's outfit... I don't care.  
> FEEDBACK; Don't flame me for this one. LaDemonessa made me do it!  
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: I sent a challenge to a list in hopes that someone would write a slash story with AU Worf and Garak, LaDemonessa threw the challenge right back in my face and told me I had to make one of them wear a certain garment. And so - here it is. Enjoy - or not...

Worf was sitting at the captain's chair on the bridge of his flagship. Getting rid of those pesky Terrans had put him in a horny mood. Fighting always did that to him. He eyed the people on the bridge, but there was nobody there that really turned him on. 

Except... 

He looked down at the hunched down form of the Cardassian. He'd never had a Cardassian before. Worf snarled and yanked the chain that was firmly planted around Garak's neck. That no-good suck-up Cardassian should pay attention to his master. Not just lie there and look like he was comfortable. 

"Pig!" Worf spat out. 

"What? What did I do?" the Cardassian whined pathetically and scrambled to his legs like a good pet. 

"Nothing! That's the problem," Worf grunted. 

* * * 

Garak withdrew slightly from the menacing look on the Regent's face. There was a glint there he wasn't sure he liked. He eyed the Klingon suspiciously. The ravenous glint intensified and Garak sighed. His best bet was to try and stay on Worf's good side. The Klingon had a positively foul mood if he didn't get his way. And Garak had not forgotten the way he'd been stabbed last time he managed to upset Worf. Back then it wasn't even his fault. He was not about to mess anything up by being distracted or inattentive. 

"What can I do for you, Regent," he said with a sugarcoated voice. 

"You can give me a blowjob," the Regent snarled and cast aside the long, curly hair that fell in his face. "But first, I want you to wash and put on something other than that disgusting Cardassian uniform. It could make a Vulcan in Pon Farr turned off!"

"What would you prefer me to wear, your Lordship?" Garak asked, and prayed to the High Gul that the Regent didn't have any kinky... 

"I want you to wear a French maid costume," Worf said determinedly. 

So much for that hope, Garak thought as he was escorted off the bridge by one of Worf's guards and hauled into the sonic shower. He didn't know what a French maid costume really was, but it sure as hell sounded like something a female would wear...

When he got out of the shower, he smelled like a newborn, clean and sweet. Too bad the Regent probably wouldn't show him the same courtesy. Oh well, that was the life of a lowly Cardassian serving in the Alliance. No use in complaining about it. 

Garak stepped forward to the bench where the clothes lay. It consisted of a black dress and an extremely ridiculous apron with frills. Garak groaned.aloud. This was - by far - the most outrageous costume he'd ever been forced to wear. 

"Are you finished in there," the guard grunted impatiently and pointed at him with a phaser. "The Regent is a busy man. He does not wish to wait for you!"

Busy, and impatient when he is horny, Garak thought and dressed quickly. He slid his feet into the high-heeled shoes that went with the outfit and looked at himself in the mirror. He wished he hadn't, and turned to leave. The guard secured the leash around his neck and Garak rolled his eyes impatiently. He wished they would at least accommodate his neck-ridges with that thing, but no such luck... 

"Finally!" Worf snarled as Garak stepped onto the bridge. Then he stared at the Cardassian, wearing the French maid uniform. 

"Suddenly," Worf said. "I no longer feel in the mood for this. I feel sick."

The Klingon turned around, his face pale, and Garak couldn't help but smile. Maybe this outfit wasn't so bad after all. 

"And here I thought nothing was worse than a Cardassian uniform?" he quipped as he was lead off the bridge by the guard. 

~ END ~


End file.
